


Sweeter

by dontcallmeking



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - College/University, Developing Relationship, Falling In Love, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Sexting, dont worry there's no boring physics talk in here, i mean someone's gotta write for these rarepairs, oikawa is studying astronomy, trust me - Freeform, yaku wants to learn theoretical physics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-22
Updated: 2016-04-22
Packaged: 2018-06-03 17:42:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6620134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dontcallmeking/pseuds/dontcallmeking
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yaku Morisuke doesn't understand Oikawa Tooru, but he finds himself coming to know him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sweeter

**Author's Note:**

> Requested by animushrine

Yaku sighs, shifting the strap of his bag as he enters the library for private study. He didn’t expect university to be as hard as it is (he _was_ in college prep classes in high school, after all), but after the first few weeks of juggling classes for his physics major with his intensive volleyball schedule, he can feel himself start to slip which is something he, as someone on a merit scholarship, can’t do.

He sets his bag down and pulls out his books and homework, lying them down on the table in front of him. He has a few hours before he needs to grab a bite to eat before his next class and then, after that, volleyball practice, and he _has_ to use these hours for private study. He would study in his dorm room, but he ended up rooming with _Konoha_ , of all people, and not only is Konoha an asshole, he’s also _loud_. And Yaku really can’t focus with Konoha’s pop music playing loudly on his speaker.

Yaku guesses he’s not as patient as he said he was on the roommate questionnaire.

“Ah! Yakkun!”

Yaku sighs as he watches Oikawa Tooru pull out the chair across from him. Yaku goes back to his book without responding because he doesn’t _owe_ Oikawa anything, despite Oikawa’s attempts during practice to ‘get to know him,’ or whatever it was. Yaku’s not really interested in becoming involved with someone who seems so loud and obnoxious, not after spending his last year of high school trying to rein in Lev.

There’s the thump of a book being dropped on the table, but no rustle of pages. Yaku can feel eyes on him. He looks up. Oikawa’s lips are pursed and his brows are furrowed as he stares at Yaku. Yaku wants to ignore him, but he can’t. Oikawa obviously wants to say something, and Yaku can’t help but feel curious. Yaku raises an eyebrow.

“What?”

Oikawa looks pleased at the response and preens a little bit. “I didn’t know you’re studying physics, Yakkun! I am as well. What’s your area?”

Yaku isn’t sure why Oikawa thinks he’s interested in conversing, but he answers anyway. “Theoretical.”

“I’m studying astronomy. Unlocking the secrets of the universe,” Oikawa gives him a smile, but his eyes are sharp. “I guess you’re unlocking the secrets of things that may or may not exist.”

“I’m not sure why you’re still talking to me,” Yaku tells him, because he honestly doesn’t know. He hasn’t done anything to make someone as extravagant as Oikawa interested in him, and honestly he doesn’t _want_ to have Oikawa’s interest. He seems annoying, like Kuroo.

Oikawa cocks his head, before turning his gaze to Yaku’s books. “What are you working on? Particles?”

“Yeah,” Yaku says and he can feel a vein starting to throb in his forehead as he’s reminded exactly _why_ he doesn’t want to talk to Oikawa. “And as you’ve pointed out, I’m _working_ , so can you please mind your own business or leave?”

“Rude, but alright,” Oikawa acquiesces, opening up his own book and pulling out paper to work. Yaku types some numbers into his calculator, a hand in his hair as he copies down the numbers from it. They work in silence for a while before Oikawa stretches, his arms above his head, back arching. There’s a pop in his spine, and the sound annoys Yaku for some reason beyond him. Yaku finishes that homework before pulling out his other textbook, opening it up to the second chapter, ready to start the reading and theoretical math problems that just have to do with integrals and derivatives. He has to finish it before his class at five. He starts in the first paragraph but he can feel his attention swaying. He needs to take a break.

Oikawa yawns and rubs his eyes, resting his head in his hand as he goes through some of his own math work.

Yaku can’t help but ask. “Late night?”

Oikawa’s eyes flick up to him. “Something like that.”

Yaku’s mouth pulls to the side. “Did you stay late after practice? You didn’t get changed with the rest of us.”

“Checking up on me, Yakkun? How cute. I didn’t know you care so much,” Oikawa’s smile is sugary. Yaku feels rage fill up his mouth at Oikawa’s impertinent attitude.

“I don’t.”

Oikawa hums. “I stayed after for extra serving practice.”

“The upperclassmen let you have the key?”

“I didn’t need the key,” at Yaku’s questioning gaze, Oikawa adds: “The doors open and close from the inside.”

“Oh,” Yaku says, “I thought your serves were really good?”

“’Really good’ is not good enough for the Tokyo national team,” Oikawa states. “Also, there’s always room for improvement.”

Yaku reassess his view of Oikawa. He’d watched him in practice, and last year he’d seen a special over him in a sports magazine, but Yaku realizes he’d been too quick to judge Oikawa. Oikawa is serious about volleyball, good enough to almost make it to nationals every year (except for last year, Yaku amends), good enough to be covered in a magazine, but _he_ doesn’t see himself as good enough.

“You’re not wrong,” Yaku agrees. “We always have room to improve.”

“Maybe you should stay after practice sometime and practice receiving my service ace.”

Yaku turns the proposition around in his head, before he nods. “Alright. I might take you up on that. I’d be interested to see how I fare against your serves.”

“And I would love to try and defeat your receives,” Oikawa’s voice has a lilt to it, and there’s a moment of tense competitiveness as Yaku’s skills are called into question. Yaku can feel the smirk growing on his face.

“You sound pretty confident, Oikawa.”

“It’s all a façade, I assure you,” he teases, but there’s something in his face that Yaku doesn’t necessarily understand. The moment passes as Yaku ducks his head back down to try and read the chapter he couldn’t start before. Oikawa yawns again before he stands up.

“I’m getting some coffee,” Oikawa states. “You want any?”

“Ah,” Yaku starts at the offer, but he digs through his bag and pulls out his wallet. “Here, you don’t have to pay for me.”

“I offered,” Oikawa tells him. “It’s no problem.”

“Oh, um,” Yaku can’t remember the last time someone bought him something (other than Lev, on his last birthday, but that doesn’t count), paid for something he wanted without expecting anything in return. “Thanks. I’m fine with black.”

“Okie,” Oikawa hums, putting his hands in his pockets. “I’ll be right back. Watch my stuff?”

“Of course,” Yaku answers, a little offended that Oikawa would imply that he _wouldn’t_. He may not _like_ Oikawa very much, but he wouldn’t let the setter be robbed. Oikawa gives him a smile before he strolls away from the table and out of the library, towards the small café nearby. Yaku starts to read his text again, getting a few pages in by the time Oikawa makes it back with their two coffees in hand.

Yaku takes the one that’s extended to him with a mutter of thanks, as Oikawa plops back down into his seat. Yaku watches with fascination as he takes off the top and licks the caramel-stuck whipped cream from the top of the lid. Oikawa raises an eyebrow at him and Yaku’s eyes are caught between returning his stare and watching the pink of Oikawa’s tongue sweep the cream into his mouth.

“That looks sweet,” Yaku says, unsure of what else to say. Oikawa gives him a dumbfounded look.

“Well, yeah, Yakkun. It’s whipped cream.”

Yaku feels his cheeks flush slightly, so he raises his drink to his face and takes some into his mouth, keeping his face still despite the burning sensation on his tongue. Yaku puts his drink back down on the table and taps the edge of his book with his pencil.

“You don’t like sweet things?” Oikawa asks.

Yaku shrugs. “I don’t have any particular feelings on them.”

“Well, I _don’t_ like bitter foods,” Oikawa tells him. “My favorite food is milk bread.”

“Okay?” Yaku asks, unsure why Oikawa felt the need to share. Oikawa looks at him expectantly. Yaku sighs, closing his book. He probably won’t read it anyway (he cries real tears for his next class and hopes that his professor won’t call on him to ask questions over the reading). “If I had to pick a favorite food, I guess I’d say stir-fry vegetables? Or spicy curry. I’m not super particular, though,” Yaku shakes his head. “I used to say that I hated eating fish.”

Oikawa tilts his head. “Why?”

“I used to really dislike a guy on my volleyball team in our first year because we basically disagreed on everything. We became close later on,” he shrugs. “He went to Kyoto University. The campus in Yoshida.”

“What for?” Oikawa asks.

“Chemistry,” Yaku answers.

“My best friend went to Hokkaido University for pre-med,” Oikawa says. “He’s really passionate about it.”

“Yeah, Kuroo is kind of obsessed with chem, but last time we talked he said he wasn’t sure what he wants to focus his study in on. He’s thinking maybe chemical engineering.”

“Iwa-chan wants to be a doctor. He says that it’s my fault he became interested in medicine,” Oikawa chuckles. “I’ve had some, ah, sports injuries in the past.”

Yaku raises an eyebrow. “Knees?”

Oikawa nods. “Yeah, I tore my ACL my second year and was out for the first few weeks of my third before I was allowed to play again. I overworked myself.”

Yaku thinks back to Oikawa’s yawning and how he stayed late to practice. Yaku thinks that he _needs_ to go practice with him tonight, if Oikawa stays, if only to keep Oikawa from doing anything stupid. “I bet that really pissed your friend off.”

“Oh, yeah,” Oikawa laughs. “He used to always get really mad at me, but I know that he was only trying to show that he cared about my well-being.”

“I sprained my ankle last year during the preliminaries for nationals,” Yaku tells him. “It was during our last game to become one of the representative teams from Tokyo, too. I came down wrong after a particularly hard receive and had to be taken out of the game.”

Oikawa gives him a sympathetic look. “That sounds rough, Yakkun. I would hate getting pulled out of such an important game.”

Yaku shrugs. “My team did fine. I trusted them.”

Oikawa smiles at him, a little broader than the one’s Yaku had been receiving throughout their chat. Yaku gets the strange feeling that he passed a test he didn’t know he was taking. “I’m glad. That shows your strength as a player. You can’t play volleyball by yourself.”

Yaku nods in agreement. “It’s a team sport, after all.”

Oikawa hums again. There’s a comfortable silence between the two of them, and Yaku looks over the questions he was able to answer in the time that Oikawa went to the café. They’re right, as far as he can tell, but that’s not saying much, because Yaku still hasn’t gotten a hold of his theoretical physics classes because theory is interesting, but hard. Oikawa sighs and checks his phone. He puts his phone in his pocket and starts to put away his books.

“Sorry, Yakkun, but I have to go. I’ve got a class.”

“Oh, alright. See you at practice, Oikawa,” Yaku says with a wave. Oikawa waves back and makes a peace sign before he slings his bag over his shoulder and saunters out of the library. Yaku checks the time on his phone and is surprised at how much time has passed during his conversation with Oikawa. He hadn’t expected talking to him being so easy. He hasn’t had someone like that since he’d left Nekoma and Kuroo and Kai and Lev (though Lev did most of the talking, unless Yaku was directing him in receives and his general lack of volleyball skills). He thinks that maybe he judged Oikawa too early and that maybe the two of them can become friends during the next four years as they both try and traverse Toudai.

 

* * *

 

Yaku waits for the rest of the team to leave the changing room after practice before he joins walks out of the locker room to meet Oikawa. Oikawa already has a ball in his hands. There’s sweat rolling down his face and his neck from the intense practice they just finished. Yaku’s thighs are still burning, but he’s also excited to try his luck with Oikawa’s serves.

“Oikawa,” Yaku calls out as he comes over to where Oikawa is standing with the ball in his hands, looking deep in thought. Oikawa startles at Yaku’s voice before fixing a smile on him.

“Staying after all, Yakkun?” he asks. Yaku nods.

“I’m not changed, am I?”

“I guess not,” Oikawa’s eyes travel over Yaku’s body before he turns them back to the ball in his hands. “Well?” Oikawa asks, shrugging a shoulder to the other side of the net. Yaku follows the gesture and stretches his legs before shifting his weight to the balls of his feet as he watches Oikawa through the mesh of the net. Oikawa’s gaze is one of a singular intensity, the pensive expression from earlier gone. Yaku feels a shiver in his spine as Oikawa fixes that gaze on him, the promise of a challenge.

Yaku’s body relaxes as the familiar adrenaline of the court seeps through him. He hasn’t felt this keyed up since the last game he played, before he sprained his ankle. Oikawa throws the ball into the air and jumps, his body soaring gracefully through the air. Yaku’s seen his jump serve a few times from the side, off the court, but he’s never had it aimed at him. Oikawa looks winged as his hand slams into the ball. Yaku feels his body move, just a hair’s breadth into the path of it, his arms coming up, the ball slamming into his arms, his eyes transfixed on the arc it makes as it soars to the net, to the spot on the right where a setter would be. His arms sting from the impact. Yaku takes a breath in. He breathes out.

It was a gorgeous serve.

“Nice receive,” Oikawa calls from the other side of the net, ripping Yaku out of whatever spell had been placed upon him.

“Nice serve,” Yaku hears himself respond. He wants to say more, because that serve was _better_ than nice, but he can’t find the words to describe how he felt, how enchanting it was. The intensity, the aim, the strength behind it that he hadn’t realized until he felt the ball slam into his forearms and away again in a parabolic path towards where Yaku feels Oikawa should always be.

Oikawa gives him a sly smile, another ball in his hands from the tall basket of them. Without a warning, Oikawa serves again, and this time Yaku doesn’t see the motion in slow-motion as usual. Yaku moves quickly, following the path of the ball before slipping into a perfect form to receive the ball. He sends it to the setter’s position again. Yaku looks at Oikawa and sees something gleam deep within his chocolate eyes.

“Again,” Yaku calls, the word coming out a little raw at the excitement suddenly filling him because he _has_ to receive more of Oikawa’s serves. He has to test himself against everything Oikawa can give. Oikawa gives him a devious smirk, his smile gone in exchange for something more malevolent, even more focused than before. Oikawa points at him, the ball held in hand.

“Yakkun. I’ll find the weaknesses in your defense. I’ll exploit them and crush you.”

Yaku feels his heart pound and he can feel his face contorting into something matching Oikawa’s. “You’re a hundred years too early to crush me.”

Oikawa tilts his chin back, exposing his long neck, a smirk still in place. “How about we play a game then? I get a point every time I score on you, you get a point every time you receive one of my serves. Loser has to buy the other coffee tomorrow.”

“Fine,” Yaku says, feeling nothing but confidence in his technique. He’d already succeeded in receiving Oikawa’s serves twice, he’s certain he can win this little game Oikawa’s created for them to play. Oikawa’s expression becomes darker at Yaku’s acceptance, and Yaku feels the chill of danger in the air. He starts to think he may have blundered –Oikawa was an acclaimed player, after all. _Well_ , he thinks, _it’s too late to back down now_.

 

* * *

 

Yaku slips his wallet back into his bag and picks up the two coffees, slamming the chocolate (today) in front of Oikawa. Oikawa bounces a little in his seat at the small table in the corner of the café outside of the library. Yaku sits down in his seat across from him. Oikawa licks his lips and pops the lid of the drink off, licking the whipped cream and syrup from it as he had the day before. Oikawa lays the lid down on the table and puts a slender finger into the cream in his cup, taking out and running his tongue down it, humming as he does so. He fixes a glance on Yaku as he takes his finger out of his mouth.

“Want any?” he asks, putting his finger back into the drink. Yaku’s mouth pulls to the side.

“Not really,” he responds. “I already said that I don’t really care for sweet things.”

There’s a teasing in Oikawa’s eyes like Yaku hasn’t understood something. Yaku finds that he really doesn’t care about whatever mind game Oikawa is trying to entice him to play.

“That’s a shame, Yaku. Some would say that _I’m_ a sweet person, and you’re here with me now.”

“You’re not that sweet,” Yaku says with a raised eyebrow. “What was it? Oh yeah: ‘I’ll exploit your weaknesses and crush you,” Yaku lowers his voice during the impression and tilts his head back, trying to imitate the expression Oikawa had made the night before. Oikawa squawks.

“I don’t sound like that, Yakkun! I’m much cooler!”

“And so humble, too,” Yaku responds, reaching out and flicking Oikawa lightly on the nose. He isn’t sure why he does it, maybe it’s due to his propensity for violence around exuberant people, but it causes Oikawa to pause, a smile slipping over his face.

“You’re right, Yakkun. I’m the most humble out of _all_ nationally acclaimed servers.”

“There’s not a lot of those,” Yaku raises both of his eyebrows this time. Oikawa flicks his hair to the side and sniffs.

“I’m one of a kind.”

“You sure are,” Yaku agrees before he can stop himself. Oikawa’s eyebrows shoot up his forehead and there’s slight color in his cheeks. Yaku can tell from looking at him that he’s not used to genuine compliments. Probably because of his shitty personality. “I’ve never seen someone serve like that,” Yaku explains. He shrugs. “And I guess you’re pretty fun to be around, despite your propensity for thoroughly destroying your opponents.”

“Well,” Oikawa says and his voice is a little higher pitched than usual. Yaku wonders why. There’s a flush high on his cheekbones. “You’re not so bad yourself, Yakkun. You come off very serious, but you’re interesting.”

“Thanks?” Yaku asks because it feels like a backhanded compliment. He decides to take it though, because there’s nothing in there about his height and that’s the only thing he’s really touchy about. Oikawa sips his coffee and Yaku does the same. When Oikawa puts his drink down, there’s a bit of whipped cream on his face. Yaku reaches out for it without thinking, thumb brushing it away. He brings it to his mouth to taste. Oikawa looks at him strangely, the flush still there.

Yaku feels a bit embarrassed by his actions. Kuroo had always accused him of being too much of a mother, especially to Lev. He just can’t help himself. He wants to take care of people.

“Sorry,” Yaku apologizes, because maybe he overstepped.

“No, no,” Oikawa says quickly, waving his hand dismissively. “I’m glad I don’t have to walk around school with whipped cream on my face. That would be embarrassing.”

“Of course,” Yaku nods. “What kind of friend would I be if I let you walk around like that?”

Oikawa’s eyes widen before his face slides into a pleased grin. “We’re friends?”

Yaku splutters a bit. “Well, I mean. I _assumed_. You invited me to play with you last night and we both bought each other coffee. I mean. We don’t have to be or anything. I just…” he takes a quick gulp of his coffee. Oikawa starts to laugh from across the table. It starts off as a few chuckles before evolving into full-blown laughter. His hand comes up over his mouth and his eyes seem to dance. Yaku has trouble looking away.

“Fine, we don’t have to be friends or anything, sorry that I was disillusioned or whatever.”

That seems to snap Oikawa out of his fit. He leans forward over the table, shaking his hands. “No no no nonono,” he says quickly. “I think we’re friends, too! I just didn’t expect you to say it first.”

“Why not?” Yaku asks, his head tilting a bit. His embarrassment quickly fades into curiosity at the promise of peeling back a layer of Oikawa’s ‘façade.’

“I’m used to going after friends myself, not having friends come to me,” he says, the smile on his face is a little pinched. “I’ve been told that my personality leaves some things to be desired. You said it yourself. I have a bad side.”

Yaku’s mouth pulls down at his statement. “Everyone has a bad side, Oikawa. You just don’t hide yours when you get competitive. I don’t think there’s necessarily anything wrong with that. You’re intense and a strong player. And so what if you let it get the best of you sometimes? I was on the receiving end of it last night and it didn’t scare me away. In fact,” he pauses, unsure if he should say what he wants to. He decides to continue on, because Oikawa seems a little insecure about himself and Yaku’s dealt with enough high-strung players to understand how quickly bolstered confidence can fall into something self-destructive, “In fact, it makes me just want to play you more.”

The smile on Oikawa’s face wavers a bit before he brightens up again. “Really, Yakkun? We’ll just have to play another game after practice tonight.”

Yaku studies Oikawa’s face and the mannerisms and twitches he’d picked up over their last few interactions, as well as what he’d observed prior to their time chatting in the library. He thinks about how Oikawa’s really only trying to please and how Oikawa isn’t anywhere near as confident as he convinces other he is. Yaku knows, from experience, the stress of trying to build up a team, the stress of knowing that there are those who are always going to be better than you, despite how hard you to. Those with true talent, like Nishinoya from Karasuno, who will only continue to progress throughout their lives. Yaku believes that Oikawa understands that, because he witnessed Oikawa’s singular attention to detail, to the aim of his serves, the pinpoint accuracy of them. He knows how hard someone has to work to become phenomenal, precise. Yaku takes all of this into account, thinks of the self-deprecation of who he is as a person and quickly reconstructs his view of Oikawa Tooru.

Yaku decides that he likes Oikawa as he is.

“I’ll beat you this time, Oikawa.”

 

* * *

 

Yaku doesn’t beat him then, nor does he beat him over the next few weeks of “gaming” every other day (on the days where they don’t play, they both agree that they have too much homework and they walk back towards their dorms together, parting ways as Oikawa goes into his). Yaku stares at the contact Oikawa had just punched into his phone and then he opens the picture Oikawa had taken of himself. It’s a dumb picture, Yaku decides.

Oikawa had thrown an arm around Yaku’s neck and bent down, smashing their cheeks together. Oikawa’s nose is turning red from the cold, and theirs a flush on his cheeks. He’s winking and there’s a small smile on his face. Yaku’s eyes are wide and he looks taken aback by the sudden action. He doesn’t look anywhere as beautiful as Oikawa. Yaku vaguely wonders if he should crop himself out of the picture, just leaving Oikawa before deciding that he doesn’t look that bad, and besides, this picture is for his (and Oikawa’s) eyes only.

He opens up a new message and attaches the selfie to it, thinking that Oikawa would enjoy having it as well, since Oikawa had been the one to take it in the first place. He sends it without a comment, because he doesn’t know what to say.

_You’re beautiful and I’m not?_

Like he’d do that.

Oikawa’s response is nearly instantaneous, filled with an excessive amount of exclamation marks and emoji to express his happiness at seeing the picture. Yaku watches as Oikawa types out something else. There’s a sense of anticipation within Yaku that he doesn’t really understand.

**From: Oikawa Tooru**

**(8:42pm)**

_We look pretty cute_

_Well, /you/ look pretty cute_

_You were so surprised!_

Yaku’s breath stutters in his chest as he tries to understand Oikawa’s meaning. What does Oikawa _mean_? He’s not _cute_. What does Yaku say? Yaku groans in frustration because his read receipts are turned on, so he knows that Oikawa can see that he’s read the messages.

**To: Oikawa Tooru**

**(8:44pm)**

_Yeah, I was_

_I didn’t expect you to take that picture_

**From: Oikawa Tooru**

**(8:44pm)**

_Glad you agree that you’re cute Yakkun!!_

_Your nose is so red_

_Maybe I should lend you a scarf next time?_

**To: Oikawa Tooru**

**(8:45pm)**

_1) I didn’t agree with that_

_2) You’re one to talk about being cold_

_3) I wouldn’t want to steal away one of your beloved scarves that would be too cruel to you_

**From: Oikawa Tooru**

**(8:45pm)**

_1)_ _yes you totally just did._

_me: ur cute ;)_

_u: yeah, I was Oikawa why are you saying such obvious things_

_2) my body generates x10 the amount of body heat as yours so im okay_

_3) if its for you I’d /gladly/ part with one_

Yaku stares at his phone, unsure of what was happening. Honestly, his brain was kind of short circuiting around the comment about Oikawa’s body mass relative to his, but looking past that he realizes that Oikawa’s kind of… flirting with him? Maybe? Yaku isn’t sure. This conversation is filling him with questions that he has never needed to answer before.

**To: Oikawa Tooru**

**(8:46pm)**

_1) that is literally not what I was agreeing to and you know it_

_2)for your safety I will ignore the comment about my height but before I do that I’m just going to say that even if my height’s a little below average at least I’m not a giant_

_3) –_

Yaku pauses, his fingers hovering over the screen of his phone, unsure of what he should type in response to Oikawa’s last comment. He isn’t sure if Oikawa’s really flirting with him or doing that the he does sometimes where he’s trying to start banter. He isn’t sure what he should do if Oikawa _is_ flirting with him, because Yaku hasn’t ever experienced this before. Yaku’s always known that he was gay, but Nekoma High wasn’t the prime place for him to gain much experience (he hadn’t really found anyone he was interested in). He certainly had never been exposed to this kind of romantic confusion by someone he thought of as a friend (sure, there was the time that he experimented with Kuroo during their second year, but that was hardly romantic, just some fumbling in the darkness of the supply closet behind the gym).

Yaku is unsure if he _wants_ to have something romantic with Oikawa. Sure, over the past few weeks they’d become pretty close. He feels like he understands Oikawa to a certain extent, but Yaku has never been one to analyze his own feelings like he does others’. He feels like he might want to do _something_ with Oikawa, maybe. He certainly thinks that Oikawa as a certain dangerous quality to him that Yaku finds exhilarating, and he also thinks that Oikawa is attractive.

Yaku shakes his head, his fingers still hovering and decides to go along with it and see what happens.

_3)_ _are you sure you won’t regret that decision? I might just have to take you up on the offer_

**From: Oikawa Tooru**

**(8:47pm)**

_1) I know~ it’s just so fun to watch you get so flustered_

_2) ‘I’m not going to say anything but—‘me thinks you doth protest too much Yakkun. You can’t deny your cuteness forever and if that happens to be partly (but not completely) because of your height well…_

_3) I won’t regret it_

\----

**From: Oikawa Tooru**

**(8:47pm)**

_I’ll bring one for you in my bag tomorrow. The temp’s supposed to drop and I don’t want my cute Yakkun to freeze to death before you can reach the café for our coffee date_

Date? Yaku is unsure what to do. Should he just ignore it and see where Oikawa’s taking this conversation?

He’s going to ignore it and let Oikawa take over, he decides.

**To: Oikawa Tooru**

**(8:48pm)**

_1) Whatever you say Oikawa whatever you say_

_2) I guess your height isn’t that bad either (my height is totally not cute btw)_

_3) I’ll be looking forward to it_

_(btw what do you mean not completely?)_

Yaku lets out a breath and watches as Oikawa reads his messages and starts to type a response.

**From: Oikawa Tooru**

**(8:49pm)**

_1) Oikawa-san loves it when he’s right~_

_2) oh? what do you think about my height then Yakkun?_ _What do you think about me?_

_3) what I meant is that your height is cute and all, but I also think there are many other things that make you cute too. Like how flustered you get without realizing it and how caring you are for the ones around you like that one time when Kurosawa-san couldn’t manage to do a receive and you spent so much time helping him_

Before he can type a response, Oikawa sends a _‘brb shower’._ Yaku rereads the message, unsure of what to say to both the second and third response. He isn’t sure how real he can be. That he thinks Oikawa’s beautiful? That he loves Oikawa’s passion and intensity? That now that he’s thinking about it, he kind of wouldn’t mind Oikawa bending him over the bench in the locker room? He isn’t sure how to respond to the third message either. There’s so much there and he isn’t sure what Oikawa means (or maybe he isn’t letting himself, maybe he doesn’t believe that Oikawa would want to flirt with _him_ ).

He’s not sure how much time he’ll have before Oikawa’s done with his shower (although the shower message _did_ feel like Oikawa was making a hasty retreat). He opens up his contacts and presses Kuroo’s name.

“ _Oho?”_

“I can’t believe you still answer the phone like that,” Yaku sighs. Hearing Kuroo’s voice is a relief, despite his personality.

“Yaku, Yaku, always so critical. What’s up? It’s not like you to call this late. Or at all. Kinda salty about that, by the way.”

“Sorry,” Yaku apologizes. “I’ve just been really caught up lately,” he realizes how true it is after he’s said it. Since he and Oikawa started to become close, he really hasn’t thought about much outside of volleyball, his classes, and Oikawa.

“College difficult? I was surprised at how difficult my classes have been so far. Research institutions don’t play,” Kuroo chuckles at himself.

“Yeah, classes have been rough. But, that’s not really why I’ve been off the grid for the past few weeks.”

“What is it then? Meet someone?”

“Well, kind of? I’m not sure,” Yaku breathes and there’s a weight off of his chest at having said the words. “He’s, uh. I think he’s interested in me but I’m not sure.”

Kuroo makes an understanding noise that’s a gesture for him to continue.

“He’s really, really pretty and he’s been kind of flirting with me? But I’m not sure if he’s really flirting or if he’s just trying to be witty or something. I’m not sure if I’m reading too much into it. He’s on my volleyball team.”

“That how you guys met?”

“Yeah. Well, sort of. He approached me at the library a few weeks ago and started up a conversation. Then he invited me to join him for extra practice. He bought me coffee that first time at the library, and ever since then we’ve been meeting to study and going to get coffee and sometimes he’ll buy me dinner and we’ve been texting tonight and he’s kind of…”

“Getting under your skin?” Kuroo asks. “Do you _want_ him to flirt with you?”

Yaku groans and flops down on his bed, thankful that Konoha is out on another date. He sighs again. “I don’t know. Yes? I think I do. I like what he’s doing. He keeps telling me that I’m cute and I kind of didn’t really mind when he made a comment that my height made me cuter? I don’t think I’m cute or anything, and normally I’d be offended. I’m not sure what any of this means.”

There’s a ding in his ear, showing that Oikawa has texted back.

“That him?” Kuroo asks, obviously having heard his phone.

“Yeah,” Yaku says.

“What did he say?”

“That he’s back from the shower,” Yaku reads. “Oh, he just sent that I should meet him at his dorm tomorrow before we go to the library so I can pick out a scarf to wear.”

“Ohoho~ going to the dorm room already? Make sure he remembers to put a sock on the door handle.”

“ _Kuroo Tetsurou_ ,” Yaku gasps, aghast. “That’s _obviously_ not –it’s –I’m not going to have sex with Oikawa Tooru!”

“You have a crush on _Oikawa Tooru_? From Aobajousai? In Miyagi?” Kuroo asks. “I had no idea he was even going to Toudai. I guess he _would_ be one to get accepted there,” he amends.

“Yes, it’s Oikawa Tooru,” Yaku sighs, tapping his fingers on his keyboard. “I texted him that I’ll meet him tomorrow.” Oikawa starts typing again, and Yaku feels twisting nervousness in the pit of his stomach. “Oh god, Kuroo, he’s typing again.”

“Yaku, it’ll be fine,” Kuroo tries to reassure him. “I’ve never seen you lose your shit over a guy like this before.”

“I’m just, you know. _New_. To this whole _crush_ thing and to him. I’m not really sure what to do. I feel so nervous.”

**From: Oikawa Tooru**

**(10:01pm)**

_I’m looking forward to seeing you tomorrow_

_Is your roommate home?_

“He wants to know if Konoha’s here.”

“Oh my god what does that _mean_?” Kuroo asks over the phone, his voice curious. “Yaku, your love life is ten billion times more interesting than mine. Which is to say, I have no love life.”

“It’s not a love –okay, it’s kind of a love life.”

“Right, well I’m going to go ahead and let you go. You talk to your boy, alright? Keep me updated! Oh, and remember to just do whatever feels natural. Don’t over think it. You don’t want to lose something that could be good for you both,” Kuroo hangs the phone up after Yaku returns his goodbyes. Yaku opens his phone back up to his messages.

**To: Oikawa Tooru**

**(10:03pm)**

_Sorry, was on the phone with a friend_

_To answer your question, no_

_My roommates out on a date and probably won’t be back tonight_

_Why?_

**From: Oikawa Tooru**

**(10:03pm)**

_Do you want to finish our conversation from earlier?_

Yaku bites his bottom lip, worrying it between his teeth.

**To: Oikawa Tooru**

**(10:04pm)**

_Yes_

Yaku leans back against the pillows on his bed, his arm over his face.

**From: Oikawa Tooru**

**(10:04pm)**

_Where do you want to start?_

And like a serve Oikawa throws the ball into his court.

**To: Oikawa Tooru**

**(10:05pm)**

_You asked me what I think of you_

**From: Oikawa Tooru**

**(10:05pm)**

_I did_

_Will you tell me?_

**To: Oikawa Tooru**

**(10:07pm)**

_I like your focus and your intensity and your desire to succeed in whatever you try and the things that you’re passionate about. I like how you’re personable and kind, even though sometimes you get overly competitive. I like your competitiveness. I like when we practice late_

_And I like the way you look at me when you know you’ve got me cornered_

**From: Oikawa Tooru**

**(10:10pm)**

_I like the way you look at me too_

_Like you won’t back down without a fight_

_It makes me want to take you down in any way that I can_

Yaku suppresses a shiver at thoughts of how Oikawa could accomplish that. All the ways Oikawa could take him apart.

**To: Oikawa Tooru**

**(10:12pm)**

_How are you going to do that?_

_I want to hear them_

**From: Oikawa Tooru**

**(10:13pm)**

_I could always take you down in volleyball but what I really want to do sometimes after practice is push you down to the floor of the gym_

_You wouldn’t be able to fight me_

**To: Oikawa Tooru**

**(10:13pm)**

_I wouldn’t want to_

**From: Oikawa Tooru**

**(10:14pm)**

_That’s good to hear because I can tell you what I want to do to you_

_You to let me suck your cock_

_I think about it sometimes when we play and when I look at your thighs because they’re nice_

_I want to put my hands on them_

“Oh my god this is really happening,” Yaku breathes out, his heart beating rapidly in his chest. His cheeks are hot and he can feel the beginnings of arousal pool in his stomach.

**To: Oikawa Tooru**

**(10:15pm)**

_I’d like that I think_

_I’d also like to return the favor_

_Sometimes when you stick your fingers in your coffee to get the whipped cream I want to suck that sugar off of them myself just to see what you’d do_

_I liked how flustered you got the first time I cleaned some of it off your face_

_I want to see how much more flustered I can make you_

**From: Oikawa Tooru**

**(10:16pm)**

_I only drink my coffee that way because I wanted you to_

_I wanted it to make you want me_

_I’ve wanted you for a while now_

**To: Oikawa Tooru**

**(10:17pm)**

_What would you do if you had me?_

Yaku’s cock is already half hard in his pants as his mind is filled with the possibilities of what he and Oikawa could do. He watches as Oikawa types. He wants Oikawa to get on with it. He starts to stroke himself, too impatient to wait for Oikawa’s response. He’s surprised at how much he likes this, how much he wants this. He wants Oikawa to do things to him. He wants to do things to Oikawa.

**From: Oikawa Tooru**

**(10:19pm)**

_I would kiss you after practice and then I’d take you back to my dorm and kiss you more. I’d kiss you until we both couldn’t breathe I have so many fantasies about what I want to do I don’t even know where to begin. Sometimes I want to wait until after we’ve dated but I want you so much it hurts and I don’t know if I can wait and date your properly and do this properly_

**To: Oikawa Tooru**

**(10:21pm)**

_Oikawa I want to do this with you. Whatever this is_

**To: Oikawa Tooru**

**(10:23pm)**

_Don’t leave me hanging you asshole_

**From: Oikawa Tooru**

**(10:23pm)**

_I’m sorry!!! I just don’t know what to say_

_I’ve never done this before_

**To: Oikawa Tooru**

**(10:24pm)**

_I haven’t either_

_Just do what feels right_

_What comes naturally to you_

_I want to hear the things you will do to me_

Yaku pauses but decides he should give Oikawa more incentive to continue, because Yaku is already kind of hard and he doesn’t want to masturbate while feeling disappointed in how the conversation ends. Of course, if Oikawa doesn’t want to continue, Yaku won’t push, but Yaku’s tired of Oikawa mixed signals.

**To: Oikawa Tooru**

**(10:24pm)**

_I’m already hard just thinking about it_

**From: Oikawa Tooru**

**(10:25pm)**

_I am too_

_What are you thinking about right now?_

**To: Oikawa Tooru**

**(10:26pm)**

_I’m thinking of you pushing me down into the bed and tearing me apart. I’m thinking of making you watch me while I touch myself before I go down on you. I’m thinking of how you’d like my mouth on you and how you’d fuck into my throat_

**From: Oikawa Tooru**

**(10:28pm)**

_I’d finger you if you’d let me_

_I think you’d look good with my cock inside you_

Yaku groans, thinking about it filling him, stretching him out. Yaku imagines the burn of it, the pain and moans again. His hand works quickly against his cock and he slips his thumb into the slit and pushes, letting out a low moan at the feeling, a mixture of both pleasure and pain.

**From: Oikawa Tooru**

**(10:29pm)**

_I’d kiss you until you couldn’t think and then I’d let you take us to the bed. I’d want you on top of me so that I could look at you but I wouldn’t mind if you wanted to be under me. I’d like it however you wanted it. I think about how it would feel for you to spank me if I misbehave maybe squeeze the base of my cock and keep me from coming until you’d let me_

_But anyway, we’d get on the bed and I’d start to take off your close. I’d kiss your neck and suck and bite on it really hard until your skin was purple and then I’d move to your collarbone and then your nipples. I’d like them and suck on them until you were aching to come and then I’d take you into my mouth and suck on your head_

_I want to taste you_

Yaku moans low and long as he starts to squeeze himself, is hand moving harder around his cock, alternating between fast and slow. He hasn’t felt this aroused before, this excited. He wants Oikawa to make him come. He’d never thought he’d be so turned on through words and suddenly sexting makes sense to him, though he would still rather have Oikawa with him, doing the things he’s promising.

**To: Oikawa Tooru**

**(10:33pm)**

_Are you touching yourself right now?_

_I am_

**From: Oikawa Tooru**

**(10:34pm)**

_Yes_

_I want to see you_

**To: Oikawa Tooru**

**(10:34pm)**

_I’m not as pretty as you are_

_I want to see you too_

**From: Oikawa Tooru**

**(10:35pm)**

_Attachment.jpg_

Yaku’s mouth goes dry as he opens up the message. Oikawa’s cock is arched against the muscles of his abdomen and Yaku’s eyes are drawn to the pink head. It’s leaking from the tip and Oikawa’s long, pretty fingers are wrapped loosely around the base. His cock is long, not thick, but Yaku knows it will still fill him in the way he yearns for. He wonders if Oikawa will fuck him hard enough to make him hurt the next day.

**To: Oikawa Tooru**

**(10:36pm)**

_You’re just as pretty as I thought you’d be_

**From: Oikawa Tooru**

**(10:36pm)**

_Your turn Yakkun_

Yaku pulls his shorts and boxers down under his knees and opens his camera. He’s never done this before, and he’s not one to take selfies, so he’s unsure how to make his picture as artistic and appealing as Oikawa’s had been. Yaku arranges his body so that his legs are spread, his phone propped on up on a pillow by his feet. He wants to give Oikawa a nice view for him to imagine fucking into. He uses his toe to take a picture of him spread against the sheets. Yaku’s hands are gripping the covers beneath him, and he’s staring at the camera as he takes the picture. Yaku looks the picture over, making sure it’s appealing enough and send it, embarrassment flooding through his body.

**To: Oikawa Tooru**

**(10:38pm)**

_Attatchment.jpg_

**From: Oikawa Tooru**

**(10:40pm)**

_Oh_

_That’s_

_I’m really, really into that Yakkun_

_That’s really hot_

_I want to fuck you so bad. I want to fuck you so hard you feel it for a week and you can’t help but come back begging for more_

Yaku’s hand moves faster along the length of his cock and he grips it hard enough to hurt. He’s coming before he even realizes what’s happening, a long moan ripping out of his throat. He lays in his bed, breathing heavily, cum sticky on his stomach and hand. He feels a haze come over him and he reaches for his phone with his clean hand.

**To: Oikawa Tooru**

**(10:45pm)**

_That was really intense_

**From: Oikawa Tooru**

**(10:47pm)**

_Yeah_

_I haven’t felt so turned on in my life_

_Think of how intense our real sex would be_

**To: Oikawa Tooru**

**(10:48pm)**

_You’re just going to turn me on again stop it_

**From: Oikawa Tooru**

**(10:49pm)**

_Not up for round 2?_

**To: Oikawa Tooru**

**(10:50pm)**

_Goodnight Oikawa_

_I’ll see you tomorrow_

**From: Oikawa Tooru**

**(10:50pm)**

_Goodnight Yakkun <3_

Yaku looks down at the stickiness on him and sighs, getting up out of bed despite the glow hovering over his mind to clean himself off.

 

* * *

 

Oikawa opens the door to the dorm, letting Yaku in almost as soon as Yaku arrives on his doorstep. Despite the times that Yaku has walked Oikawa to the dorm, he had never been inside. Oikawa’s dorm isn’t too different from his own, just different furniture and slightly more active. There are some kids playing pool in the corner while another practices one a piano that’s set off to the side of the commons area.

Oikawa’s face is bright, filled with a small smile that Yaku can see is genuine. “Yakkun, follow me.”

Yaku does, distinctly aware of their conversation and actions the night before. Yaku isn’t sure what to do, but be doesn’t want to ruin whatever it is he has with Oikawa. He resolves that the two of them should talk about it. He doesn’t want to be strung along, and he also doesn’t want to string Oikawa along in the process. Yaku’s always had more of an upfront nature.

He follows Oikawa up the stairs and to Oikawa’s dorm room.

“My roommate’s in class,” Oikawa explains at the lack of a second person. “He really overbooked himself this semester, so he’s rarely ever here.”

“My roommate’s gone a lot as well. But his less academic and more because he continuously goes out on dates,” Yaku says. “It’s annoying but he never brings anyone back.”

“A conscientious roommate? How good for you, Yakkun,” Oikawa hums. He opens his closet and gestures. “Go ahead.”

There’s a rack of scarves all different colors, but none that really spark Yaku’s interest. He starts to look through them, taking in the designs and colors. He isn’t sure what will look good with his outfit, so he decides to go with the first neutral one he finds. There’s a black scarf hidden deep within, and so he grabs what he can and pulls. The stand starts to tumble down on top of him, but he feels a firm hand on his abdomen, pulling him back. He looks up, his eyes tracing the strong line of Oikawa’s jaw above his head. Oikawa’s other hand had reached out, stopping the rack from hitting Yaku’s head. Yaku admires the length of Oikawa’s arms, the size of his hand and the breadth of his torso that Yaku’s pulled against.

“Yakkun! It’s a good thing you’re so small, or that would have hit you before I could catch it!”

Yaku stomps on Oikawa’s foot on reflex. Oikawa lets go of him and bounces away, holding his aching foot.

“Mean!” he shouts.

“That’s for making a comment about my height,” Yaku says, his hands gripping hand into the fabric of the scarf he had managed to pull out. Yaku crosses his arms and frowns as he stares at Oikawa. Oikawa looks back at him, wearing a dramatized expression of injury, before he starts to laugh.

“You’re so touchy! I didn’t realize you were so insecure about it,” he explains. Yaku kind of wants to punch him for the wording, but he also knows that Oikawa’s right. His anger does stem from insecurity. “I won’t make a comment about it again,” he promises, before he adds. “But I like your height, personally. It makes me want to wrap you up and keep you all to myself.”

Yaku feels his stomach turn in interest at Oikawa’s wording because it makes him think of Oikawa _tying_ him up, and Yaku’s kind of into that.

“Well, if you had the tools, I wouldn’t exactly mind,” Yaku tells him and he sees Oikawa’s eyes sharpen on him, pupils dilating. Oikawa comes closer to him and settles a hand on the small of Yaku’s back, his thumbing starting to rub in small, circular patterns.

“Yakkun, if you say things like that, we might not make it to lunch,” his face starts to move towards Yaku’s and Yaku gulps as Oikawa’s eyes focus on his lips. Yaku shifts closer, leaning into Oikawa’s body.

“I wouldn’t exactly mind that either.”

Yaku pushes up, capturing Oikawa’s lips. Oikawa lets out a small noise before there’s a hand on the back of Yaku’s head, keeping them together. Yaku feels hunger build of inside of him and he starts to move his lips. Oikawa removes his hand and pushes the door to his room closed.

**Author's Note:**

> [Content Warning]   
>  Sexting is very dangerous, especially if you are under the age of consent. If you are below that age, it is classified as the possession of child pornography, and both you and whoever you send them to can be arrested for it. Even if you are of age, it is still dangerous. Those pictures can be used against you and it can ruin your career if they are released on the internet. I'd honestly recommend against ever doing it, at least in the form of pictures. Please be responsible with your body and your choices. Both Oikawa and Yaku are of consenting age, but in reality, there would still be a lot of danger with what they've done. Be careful and try to make wise decisions.
> 
> I honestly didn't think that I'd end up writing smut for Oikawa with anyone other than Iwaizumi, but then this happened. I'm still not sure how I ended up writing over 8000 words for a pairing that has had zero canon interaction. Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it!


End file.
